


Warm in My Hand

by Mackaley



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Established Relationship, Facial Shaving, M/M, Penis In Vagina Sex, Praise Kink, Shaving, Straight Razors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:23:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22910131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mackaley/pseuds/Mackaley
Summary: “Have you ever had a shave with a straight razor?” Crowley shook his head.Aziraphale released his wrist and brought his hand to Crowley’s face, tracing along his jaw, his chin, and dragged his thumb through the rough hair there. “As handsome as I think you’d look with a full beard, I think I’d like to give you a shave and see if you like it.”
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 347





	Warm in My Hand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zeetease](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeetease/gifts).



> I wrote this as a thank you to Kaz who beta’d my 42k monster of a fic. Kaz, I hope you enjoy! I went through your prompt list on the M25 and saw this one and was like “Yep, that’s it.”
> 
> Title is from “My Friends” from Sweeney Todd, because obviously.

Making out with Aziraphale was easily the best part of the whole “stop Armageddon, confess your love to an angel, and live happily ever after” thing. The sex was phenomenal. The being in love with someone who loves you back situation? Spectacular. But there really was nothing Crowley loved more than this: lying on top of Aziraphale on the couch in the bookshop, enjoying a lazy afternoon full of kissing and heavy petting. It followed a lazy morning which was preceded by a lazy night and an even lazier day before that. Crowley’s sloth and lust had never been more satisfied and he reveled in it.

He moved his hand in firm strokes up and down the angel’s plush thigh wrapped around his waist and shivered as Aziraphale gave a pleased hum against his lips. Aziraphale’s hand came up to cup his jaw and then stroked his thumb along it insistently. He pulled back and furrowed his eyebrows. 

“Crowley, they have this marvelous new device now, only a couple thousand years old. It’s called a razor. Have you ever heard of it?”

Crowley huffed and glared at Aziraphale. “You took your tongue out of my mouth to complain about my stubble?”

Aziraphale wrinkled his nose. “It’s quite scratchy.” 

Crowley pinned him further into the couch and rubbed his cheek along Aziraphale’s. “Oh, is this unpleasant, angel? Do you not like this?” Aziraphale laughed and tried to squirm away before pushing up on his chest to sit up. 

“You are a _nuisance_.” Crowley pouted in his lap, but was pleased to see Aziraphale’s cheek had turned pink with irritation where he had rubbed against him.

“I’ve been too busy in this den of iniquity you call a bookshop for me to think about taking care of it, but if it bothers you, I can do it right now.” He raised his hand and Aziraphale caught his wrist, rubbing slow circles with his thumb along the bone. 

“Have you ever had a shave with a straight razor?” Crowley shook his head.

“No, why would I? I can do it just as well with a miracle.” 

Aziraphale released his wrist and brought his hand to Crowley’s face, tracing along his jaw, his chin, and dragged his thumb through the rough hair there. “I’ve been shaving manually for about a century now. It’s very pleasant. Methodical. I either go to my barber or I have a kit at home that I’ve had for several decades.” The angel paused in thought and Crowley closed his eyes as his thumb rubbed along his chin. “As handsome as I think you’d look with a full beard, I think I’d like to give you a shave and see if you like it.”

Crowley’s eyes flew open and Aziraphale was looking at him with raised eyebrows. He was still rubbing his thumb below his lip. “Crowley?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, sure. Got nothing better to do since you decided to stop kissing me.” Aziraphale rolled his eyes, but leaned forward to give him a quick peck. “Better?”

Crowley gave him an affirming hum and removed himself from Aziraphale’s lap to stand up. They made their way upstairs into Aziraphale’s fairly spacious bathroom and Crowley hopped up onto the vanity counter. Aziraphale retrieved a wooden box from a shelf and a flannel from one of the drawers. 

“Darling, run the water as hot as you can stand it, please.”

Crowley twisted around to turn the hot water tap on. His legs swung against the intricately carved wood and his fingers traced the hand painted flowers on the sink as he flicked his hand repeatedly under the water until it was just this side of scalding. He faced forward again to see that Aziraphale had taken off his bow tie and undone the buttons at his collar. He was rolling up his sleeves to his elbows and Crowley felt a flush of warmth with each new inch of skin that was revealed.

“Aziraphale,” he gritted out, his hands gripping tightly on the counter.

“Patience,” he sang under his breath.

Aziraphale removed a wide leather strop from the shaving kit and attached it to a hook on the wall. He took one of the straight razors out from its cushioning and flicked it open with ease. Crowley squeezed his thighs together to mitigate the throbbing pressure between his legs. Aziraphale ran the blade up and down the leather, slowly at first but gaining speed as he went. Crowley was mesmerized with the flex of his forearms, the twist of his wrist on the down pull as he efficiently realigned the blade. He swallowed, his throat dry and clicking.

“You sure you know what you’re doing? I don’t want a Sweeney Todd situation on our hands - I know how much you love your meat pies, angel.”

Aziraphale smiled and continued to drag the blade along the leather. “As delicious as you are, I don’t think so, no. Have confidence in me, dearest.” He pressed his thumb gently against the edge of the blade and then crossed back over to Crowley, setting the razor on the counter and nudging his thighs open so he could stand between them. He took the flannel in his hand and leaned into Crowley’s space as he snuck his arm past the demon to run it under the water. Crowley inhaled sharply as Aziraphale trailed kisses along his jaw and ran his thumb absentmindedly along his hip bone. Just as he was about to reach his lips, he pulled back and replaced his mouth with the flannel. 

Crowley whimpered at the loss and at the hot cloth on his skin. Aziraphale’s left hand came up to hold onto his neck possessively, his thumb dragging through the stubble there. He continued to press the cloth along Crowley’s face and despite his arousal at Aziraphale’s proximity, he felt himself relaxing under the touch, the heat seeping slowly into his bones.

Aziraphale set the cloth down and removed a bottle of oil from the kit. He rubbed his hands together to warm the oil in his palms and massaged it gently into Crowley’s skin. Crowley inhaled - bergamot and basil and cedar - and realized with a start that it was Aziraphale’s usual scent. He would be _smelling_ like Aziraphale and he was delirious with how kept, how _owned_ he felt.

Aziraphale gave one last swipe above his upper lip and then moved his thumb down to pull at Crowley’s bottom lip. Crowley couldn't help it, nipped at his thumb and pointedly didn't grimace at the bitter taste of the oil. It was worth it for the way the angel’s eyes darkened and the low growl that emanated from deep in his throat. He stepped closer, effectively pinning Crowley against the counter with his body and his gaze. Crowley gulped. 

“Are you planning on distracting me, Crowley?” His voice was low, dangerous. “It might not be wise to distract an angel with a blade to your throat.”

Crowley's eyes widened. Aziraphale would never threaten him, not really, but he was staring at Crowley with steel in his eyes and he felt a rush between his thighs. He swallowed again. 

“No. I'll behave.”

Aziraphale's eyes softened and crinkled instantly. It gave Crowley whiplash. “Lovely.”

He gathered up the dark wood mug and badger brush and whipped the shaving soap into a lather with quick, tight motions. He curled his hand at Crowley’s jaw and steadied him with his pinky before painting broad strokes of white lather onto his face. Finally he set the mug to the side and lifted the razor in his right hand, pearl handle almost glowing in the light of the bathroom. He set his left hand high up on Crowley’s thigh, his thumb stroking along the seam of his jeans just above his slit. The pressure was maddeningly light and he bucked his hips forward involuntarily. Aziraphale tightened his grip.

“You need to keep as still as possible for me while I’m doing this. Can you do that?” He released the pressure over his jeans and Crowley sighed in relief.

“Yeah. Yes.” He shifted on the counter, straightened his back, took a deep steadying breath, and held still. 

Aziraphale grasped his chin firmly in his left hand and then held the razor just above Crowley’s cheek, eyes boring into the demon’s. Crowley continued to hold still, pulling up every ounce of self-restraint he possessed to resist any urge to fidget or bite out a remark. After several long moments, he gave Crowley a small smile, tilted his head to the side, and dragged the blade down his cheek, exposing a line of smooth skin through the lather. The only noise that filled the room was the quiet rush of the hot water flowing into the sink and the scrape of the razor as Aziraphale made quick work of the stubble at his cheeks. He leaned forward to rinse the blade in the sink and kissed Crowley’s tattoo. 

“Isn’t that better?” he murmured. “You’re doing so well. Keep holding still.”

Aziraphale was a fucking tease and he knew it, his breath ghosting warm across Crowley’s shave-sensitive skin every time he leaned in to clean the razor. 

When Aziraphale tilted his head back, he went with it eagerly, baring his throat to Aziraphale. He heard the angel inhale sharply and felt a quick squeeze at his knee before placing the blade under his chin and dragging it along the stubble. Crowley felt the same rush of awe and affection. All their years of friendship and love had led to this: a demon willingly baring his throat to an angel, demonstrating an unwavering trust never before seen between their sides. But they had their own side now, and it regularly took Crowley’s breath away.

Crowley was fighting against himself as Aziraphale continued to offer soft encouragements and words of praise. He wanted to squirm in his seat and rut himself on the angel’s cock, which he felt stiff against him every time he moved close. But he wanted to be _good_ , wanted to prove that he could sit through this. Because Aziraphale wanted to do this for him and because he knew the angel would reward him if he stuck with it.

Aziraphale held his upper lip taut as he issued measured, precise movements to remove the hair there. Crowley’s cunt was throbbing. He wanted to squeeze his legs together, but that would constitute _moving_ and besides, he had a very solid angel standing between them. 

Aziraphale stepped back and ran the flannel under the warm water again and wiped at Crowley’s face to remove the excess soap and oil. He threaded his fingers tight in Crowley’s hair at the back of his head and a bolt surged along his spine as the angel used his sturdy grip to move him as he wished and examine his face from all angles. Crowley was thrumming with energy as he finished up, ready to pounce, when Aziraphale said, “A second pass, I think. Just to make sure.” 

Crowley whined and Aziraphale gripped tighter, pulled his head back at a sharp angle, and pressed a kiss directly on top of his Adam’s apple. He felt taut, exposed, tried not to breathe too quickly. 

“Don’t you want me to do this properly?” He grazed his teeth along a pulse point. “You’re behaving wonderfully for me, love, surely you can take a little more?” Aziraphale’s tongue darted out against his flushed skin.

“Yes,” Crowley whispered. “I can.” Aziraphale hummed against him and Crowley could feel it in his throat. The angel then pulled back and began to lather and shave him again. 

It seemed to take twice as long as the first time and it was getting harder for Crowley to stay still, especially because Aziraphale seemed to be losing his patience as well. His hand was steady as ever, but his hips and his cock were pressed against Crowley more often than not and his stormy eyes grew steadily darker.

Finally he reached for the warm flannel again to clean Crowley’s face. His other hand came up to rest on Crowley’s lower back, playing with the bare strip of skin there, and Crowley was about ready to vibrate out of his skin if he wasn’t allowed to move or touch or _something_ soon. Luckily it seemed Aziraphale was feeling the same way. 

Aziraphale set the flannel down and pushed the razor aside and then pulled Crowley with a sharp tug right to the edge of the counter and flush with his hard length. Crowley moaned and his hands flew to unbutton his jeans, but Aziraphale snapped their trousers off. Crowley licked his lips and felt impossibly more aroused at the precome glistening at the head of Aziraphale’s cock. He only got a brief glimpse as Aziraphale lined himself up and pushed deep into him in one swift motion. All the air rushed out of Crowley’s lungs, but he was so wet and eager for it. 

“ _Fuck_ , angel.” Crowley’s arms and legs wrapped tight around Aziraphale, his hands scrabbling at his neck and his heels digging into the angel’s lower back. Aziraphale set a quick pace and Crowley eagerly rolled his hips into it, trying to get closer, deeper. 

“You did so well, Crowley. Did you like it?” Aziraphale leaned in to lick and bite at his collarbones. 

“Kind of distracted through the whole thing to be honest,” Crowley panted. “Could be convinced to do it again if it ends like this.” 

Aziraphale hummed against him and he licked a broad stripe against the smooth skin of his neck, extra sensitive from the shave. He buried his nose under Crowley’s ear. “You smell good.”

Crowley chuckled and then keened as Aziraphale’s hand came up to swipe slow and steady across his clit. “Smell like you.” Aziraphale’s hand fisted in Crowley’s shirt and his other thumb started rubbing firm circles around Crowley’s clit while his fingers ran along his labia as he felt his cock pushing in and out. Crowley was fucking soaked, could feel himself getting wetter with every thrust stretching him out and every swipe against his aching clit.

He felt Aziraphale’s hand move from his back to run firmly down his upper arm. Crowley reluctantly let go of his grip around his neck and let Aziraphale pin his hand to the counter, interlacing their fingers together as he continued to fuck into him.

“Thank you,” Aziraphale exhaled. “You always do as I ask, you perfect thing. My beautiful, handsome demon.” His fingers stroked firmly at either side of his clit and Crowley felt himself climbing higher until Aziraphale squeezed Crowley’s fingers in his and Crowley came with a shout, his walls pulsing powerfully and pulling Aziraphale’s cock farther inside him. Aziraphale thrust his hips faster and Crowley’s dragged his nails down the back of his head and neck. He rolled his hips in time with Aziraphale’s and squeezed his hand tighter. 

“Give it to me, angel. Come on, come inside me.” Aziraphale pushed forward, two, three, four more times and came with a shout, his face buried against Crowley’s shoulder. 

They held each other for several moments, Aziraphale stroking his thumb across Crowley’s hand and Crowley’s fingers tangling in the curls at the nape of the angel’s neck, just content to be warm and close. Aziraphale reached for the flannel and held it under the still-running water before turning the tap off and pulling away from Crowley. 

Crowley whimpered as Aziraphale slipped free from him, but Aziraphale kept his hand on Crowley’s as he cleaned himself up. He then knelt down and ran the flannel along Crowley’s thighs and pressed his lips along the warm skin as he went. Crowley ran his fingers slowly through Aziraphale’s hair as the angel cleaned him up, content to let Aziraphale take care of him. 

Aziraphale moved to his other thigh and started giggling, although he tried to stifle the laughs with the cloth in his hand. Crowley opened his eyes and frowned.

“What on earth are you laughing at right now?”

Aziraphale pushed the cloth harder against his face as his laughter became more pronounced. “Oh, my dear, you’re going to hate me.”

“Impossible. What’s wrong?”

Aziraphale stood up and set the flannel on the counter, shoulders still shaking. “It’s just that I’m terribly peckish after all that and there is nothing I want more than a meat pie right now.”

Crowley’s mouth dropped in faux outrage. “I _knew_ this was a Sweeney Todd situation.” He slipped off the counter and Aziraphale grabbed his arm as his legs were unsteady upon landing. Crowley waved his hand and they were both dressed again.

“Well come along, angel! I’m not gonna wait around and wait for you to get hungry enough to eat me.”

He strode through the bathroom door only to hear Aziraphale say “Well, now, let’s not leave that off the table.”


End file.
